Page 39 of Crazy Little Thing Called Love

Her cousin lived in Henderson, just outside Las Vegas. Mandy and Trent loved the nightlife and spent almost every evening in one casino or another. The only casino near Kismet was Blackhawk, and that was hours away.

“No, duh. We’d sell it and buy something here.”

Her heart cracked in two, feeling suddenly just as shattered as her head. She knew her cousin didn’t care about Gran’s house. Not the way she did. Mandy wouldn’t love it or keep it up, raise a loving family in it the way their grandmother wanted. A sense of surety filled her to know that—even if things got complicated—she was doing the right thing.

“I could sell it to you, for a price.” Mandy’s sly voice filled her ear.

Yeah, for double what it’s worth knowing her greedy cousin. While she could afford to give Del his start-up cash, Cassie couldn’t afford to buy her Gran’s house outright.

“Then you wouldn’t have to marry whatever god-awful fugly guy you hired to marry you.”

“For the last time, I didn’t hire anyone.” And Del was as far from fugly as a man could get. There was a reason Jack’s was a hit with all the ladies in town and it wasn’t just their award-winning alcohol.

“Fine. I hope the roof falls down on you both in the middle of the night and kills you, bitch!”

“Lovely to talk to you too, Mandy.” But her cousin had already hung up.

Playing the conversation over in her mind, Cassie nibbled on her thumbnail. She was doing the right thing. Mandy just admitted she’d sell the place without ever living in it. Gran wouldn’t have wanted that. Her house had been passed down for generations. Family had been everything to her grandmother.

Still, guilt crushed her chest because her cousin had been partially right. Del wasn’t her real fiancé. The marriage was a scam to gain ownership of the house. When she thought of it like that, her stomach turned over. Or maybe that was last night’s booze.

Rushing to her bathroom, she made it just in time to empty the contents of her stomach into the toilet. She felt much better after brushing her teeth, hangover wise, at least. Her conscience still pricked.

Heading back into the kitchen, she bypassed another cup of coffee and grabbed her phone. Without thought, her fingers hit Del’s number. He answered after the first ring.

“Morning, sweetie-pie.”

“Ugh, please don’t say pie. Or any food-related items.”

His deep chuckle came over the line, soothing her head for some strange reason. “I see you’re as bad off as my sister.”

“Charlie’s hungover, too?”

“Came into the staff meeting this morning with big dark sunglasses and snapped at us all for yelling. We had to whisper though the entire meeting.”

She laughed, imagining big alpha men like the Jackson brothers intimidated by their tiny sister. “She has you all whipped.”

“Hey, you don’t know how ruthless Charlie can be. Once, in sixth grade, I put a frog in her backpack to scare her and the next morning I woke up with chili powder in my underwear. My sister is evil.”

She could totally see her best friend doing that. The woman could be an angel or devil, depending on how you treated her. Charlie could fight her own battles, a side-effect of living with three brothers.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“Cassie.”

He dragged out her name, and she hated that he could read her so well, even over the phone.

“What? Can’t a woman call her fake fiancé first thing in the morning just to say hello?”

“One, it’s after eleven. Not even I call this first thing in the morning. And two,” his voice softened. “You sound sad.”

She did? How the hell did he know?

Her vision blurred and she blinked away tears. She would not cry in front of Del, even if it was only over the phone.

“My cousin called this morning and reamed me out for taking Gran’s house.”

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